"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 042 - Mox" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

"To The Shadow?" Klein's question was a surprised echo.

"Yeah," admitted Cardona, "to The Shadow. So they told me from the precinct. I'll call you after I get up
there, inspector."

Cardona hung up the receiver with a bang. He was angry; and with reason. He could see trouble when
this news reached Commissioner Weston.

JOE CARDONA, during his career as detective, had seen positive proof of The Shadow's prowess. In
fact, Joe owed his lifeтАФnot once, but several times тАФto The Shadow's intervention.
Yet always, Joe had seen The Shadow only as a mysterious being, garbed in black, or in a disguise that
veiled his true features.

The mention of such a personage in Cardona's reports had aroused the ire of Commissioner Weston.
According to the commissioner, The ShadowтАФuntil he could be given a more tangible identityтАФmust be
regarded as nothing more than a myth.

A letter to The Shadow!

If such a note were important, it would be best to let it reach The Shadow somehow. But to give it to
reporters would be a great mistake. Commissioner Weston's antagonism would be aroused. Reporters,
to Cardona, were both bane and blessing. He hated their interference; he liked their commendation,
when it appeared in print.

Looking toward the door, Cardona found an answer to his very thoughts. Smiling from the frame of the
doorway was a young man about thirty years of age, light in weight, and almost frail in build, but whose
face showed both experience and determination. Cardona recognized Clyde Burke, reporter of the New
York Classic.

"Hello, inspector," greeted Burke, with a friendly wave of his arm.

"Lay off that inspector stuff," growled Cardona. "I'm Detective CardonaтАФ Joe to you."

Rising as he spoke, the detective faced the reporter. There was a contrast between the two. Burke's face
was tapering; his blue eyes and frank smile were disarming. Cardona, with square jaw, swarthy
countenance, and glowering eyes of deep brown, was harsh and outspoken. Forty pounds heavier than
Burke, though the two were of a height, Cardona showed a challenge as he stepped toward the reporter.


"Did you hear me talking on the telephone?" he demanded.

"Couldn't help it, Joe," returned Burke.

"What did you hear me say?"

"Something about a murder up in the Bronx. A letter in his room. Addressed to The Shadow -"

"Yeah?" Cardona's fists clenched, then opened. "Well, Burke, you're a good egg. I asked you what you
heard, and you told me. You couldn't have heard anything else, because that's all I said."